COMPLIMENTARY MEMBERSHIP

It was early morning
The sun was barely up
I knew because I saw it rise
I had lain in the darkness
Awake and aware for hours
Unable to sleep
Uneasy in my mind
Fearful of what maybe
Helpless in the face of events
Powerless to influence them
Just too far away
A continent away
Then I saw darkness slip into gloom
Then from gloom to glory
And in that glorious dawn light
I listened to world awaken
With all the sounds of first light
The chirruping birds
Of the dawn chorus
A milk float on its way
Clinking and rattling
Joe next door heading for work
Early turn this week
Then so I didn’t want to hear
The sound I was dreading
Beside me on the night stand
The telephone rang
A numbing fear gripped me
And for a moment I was frozen
Unable to move
Powerless to answer it
It’s never good news
Not at the crack of dawn
Good news always waits
Until a decent hour
When the telling of it can be savoured
And the listening appreciated
Good news was delivered with coffee
And consumed with tea
Good news did not come
With the breaking day and the dawn chorus
Only bad news came so early
Bad news never waited
There was no reason to wait
Bad news had no good time
It just had to be delivered
The phone rang again
And the fear released its grip on me
And I picked up the phone
The conversation was short
Its contents concise
It was the news I was expecting
Dreading, fearing
It was confirmed
I was now a member of the club
Sadly not an exclusive group
Quite indiscriminate in its selection
A club few wanted to join
But whose ranks are unshrinking
I had friends in the club
My wife was even a member
As was my boss
There was no shame in it
No social stigma
But I would have given anything
To have been excluded
To be denied admittance
To have my enrolment
Delayed for 10 or 20 years
Or even a few precious days
Just one short day, not even a whole day
Just a few hours over my travelling time
This is not an uncommon reaction
I am reliably informed
To resist membership
It’s not a club you want to join
After all no one chooses to join
The dead Dads club

CRASH LOCATION

On the M25 just beyond Dartford
She lost control of her car and crashed
Hitting the barrier with great force
Then came rest with the car smashed
It happened close to where she lived
She was nearly home, not far to go
But she sat trapped in her crumpled car
Covered in blood from head to toe
The paramedic attending the crash
Examined her as a matter of urgency
But apart from the blood covering her
He was at a loss to find any injury
“Where are you bleeding from?”
He asked the girl in the battered Ford
Slightly annoyed the girl responded
“I’m from bleeding Romford”

KNIGHTS OF THE ROAD

Mild mannered and the meek
Shy and too embarrassed to speak
No goose hears them say boo
They are hardly noticeable to you
Then they get into a car
And safe behind the wheel
They are transformed
Those once quiet and retiring
Calm and rational people
Are now fearless, bold and brave
Safe in their steel boxes
That they wear like armour
Quarantined from the world
In their metal machines
They make manifest into beasts from hell
They become possessed
Morphing into deranged sociopaths
From Mogwai to gremlin
Those once too shy to speak
The humble and the tame
Now bellow obscenities
Foul and nasty profanities
To all and sundry
Dispensing venomous rebukes
Like Georges dragon breathing fire
They drive like crazed charioteers
Set loose from the hippodrome
They cut you up
With last second maneuvers
Changing lanes, jumping lights
Leaving chaos in their wake
They sneer at authority
Swear and gesticulate
No one is safe from them
The old lady at the crossing
A group of school children
A priest or a nun
No one is safe from their wrath
Then safely at their destination
Parked in another’s space
They exit the car
And are meek once more

LIFE BEGINS

When my wife was pregnant
I was told I must be there
Smoking cigars with the lads
Was never on the cards I fear
I had never been fascinated
With childbirth I must declare
Waiting for the time for that bag
Of screaming giblets to appear
“I’m not going down the business end
I’ll just hold your hand dear”
But when you’re in the room
The event fills you with cheer
And when my son entered the world
I shed more than a little tear

I COULD NOT WEEP FOR HIM

I could not weep
When he was diagnosed
And I feared the worst
Or when the false smile appeared
And he feared it too
And put on a brave face

I could not weep
As I sat at his side
His hand once as strong as atlas
Now to weak to grip
Weak like a babe
More so

I could not weep
As I watched the frown
Furrowing his weathered face
Grey, expressionless
And as his frown faded,
As the morphine took control

I could not weep
As he lay motionless,
Breath shallow
Silent, almost
But for the occasional groan
Beneath the morphine

I could not weep
At his deathbed
As the monster within
Crept through his organs
Hastening the end
For him and for itself

I could not weep
As his muscles relaxed
And the pain was no more
As he exhaled his last
And his soul passed
When he was at peace

I could not weep
Not because it wasn’t macho
Nor for lack of love
It was perhaps numbness
Or a need to be strong
For family, others

I could not weep
When my father died
When he released his grip on life
And I kissed him goodbye
I felt only relief
That his suffering had ended

I could not weep
Not even at his funeral
When all who loved him gathered
And we shared memories
Even when the curtains drew
I could not weep for him

Fourteen years later
On a cold December morning
I held my first born son
And amidst the tears of joy
I wept for himAs I held his grandson

MY BROTHERS GIRLFRIEND

My brother has a new lady
She’s very nice but no beauty
Tall and slim with a nice figure
She definitely pulls his trigger
He is besotted with her sadly
And he dotes on her quite madly
He calls her his little hollyhock
While we all call her Bob Foc
As she has a Body Off Baywatch
And a Face Off Crimewatch

SUMMER SEASON

The summer started oh so well
With a Euro football banquet
Though sadly the home nations
Were unable to attend it
But the Euros inevitably led
To the curse of footie nations
The summer transfer market
And the incessant speculation
After the Euros came Wimbledon
And I cheered on the plucky brit
Then suffered our inclement climate
While being bored by the Cricket
I watched the windblown whingers
Hacking round at the British open
Then courtesy of the highlights
I sat and watched it all again
Then more newspaper talk
Of who will stay and who will go
Who is in and who is out
And more stories about Ronaldo
Two weeks away on the costas
Helped to numb the pain
Then home to more paper talk
And of course more summer rain
Even the upcoming Olympics
Fail to give me inspiration
Thinking of all that track and field
Merely deepens my depression
The only thing to break my torpor
And to rejuvenated my heart
Is to hear that shrill whistle blow
And have the football season start